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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205310">Halos Made of Summer, Ribbons Made of Spring</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barefoot_Dancer/pseuds/Lorinand_Lost'>Lorinand_Lost (Barefoot_Dancer)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works &amp; Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Pre-Darkening, Valinor, but-what-if-i-fly (tumblr), for work #76 2nienna2, the girls go camping</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:56:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26205310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barefoot_Dancer/pseuds/Lorinand_Lost</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, do you think the view is worth the undertaking?" She enquired.  </p><p>"I think it's the most beautiful place I've ever been," Artanis answered honestly, "And it is my greatest privilege to be here with the most beautiful maiden I have ever seen."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aredhel/Galadriel | Artanis</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Halos Made of Summer, Ribbons Made of Spring</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Nienna2/gifts">2Nienna2</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In which Aredhel basically says "I know a place…" and the Place is, in fact, pretty great</p><p>here is the link to 2nienna2's lovely moodboard, in case the image won't load on AO3<br/>https://i.imgur.com/7tPl02y.jpg</p><p>The title here is taken from "Something in the Water" by Brooke Fraser.  I thought it was a Gay song when I first heard it, and upon further searching it doesn't look like that's how it was intended, but I said what I said and if I say it’s a Gay song then it’s a song for the Gays.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Horseflesh, warm and supple, shifted under her left hand, as with her right, Artanis worked the curry comb down flank of the palomino.  She was conscious that Írissë moved about somewhere behind her, but her purpose was concealed by the shadows of the stable, broken only by a few stray filaments of light.  Her perception of the other nissë, limited only to the prickle of hair on her neck, was akin to that of a beast who knows that it is watched by something that makes no noise save that which it intends. </p><p> </p><p>Artanis focused her attention on checking her mare for abrasions or sores, as she had been instructed.  It did not do to dwell on Írissë's intentions when the maiden would reveal them before long, as was her nature.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly her voice came, soft and instructive, from behind Artanis' ear.  "And now, she is ready for the saddle blanket."  Írissë produced one woven of a rich turquoise wool and patterned with silver sea birds.  "And here, the saddle on top, and feel how you check that the girth lays flat?" Artanis shivered at feeling the other nissë take her hand in her own, guiding her along the underbelly of the mare.</p><p> </p><p>For two months, Írissë hadn't kissed her - or even touched her in a manner that conveyed anything other than friendly solicitude - but Artanis had not forgotten that first night in the garden.</p><p> </p><p>That night when Telperion had cast its gentle silver light over the hedge-maze, and Artanis had stolen away from the lavish name-day celebration Finwë had thrown for Ingoldo in search of a reprieve from the Fëanorian body politic.  When she could hear the sweet strain of music drifting from the ballroom as she picked starblossoms and idly sucked their nectar, when Írissë had come upon her sitting on the low stone bench with starblossoms at her feet and her girlish tresses unbound.  When Írissë kissed her once sweetly, and told her she tasted of nectar, and then twice deeply and hungrily, and dug her fingers into the soft curve of Artanis' hips.  When laughing voices came from around the corner, Írissë pulled her into the shade of the arbor just in time to avoid the revelers as they crossed the courtyard, a flicker of red hair and gold-woven braids, wrapped together in one cloak.</p><p> </p><p>Since then, Írissë seemed to be everywhere, but nowhere for long.  She was in Arafinwë's study when Artanis came to deliver papers from the Mariner's Guild, she was in town when Artanis went to buy a new bolt of silk, she was loitering about the training grounds with stolen pastries while Artanis was sparring.  She was always leaving behind a wink, the whisper of her perfume, and once, memorably, an antler-bone torc, the fashioning of which she confessed to consulting Curufinwë.</p><p> </p><p>Artanis could have wept for longing.  And then two days ago that hunting falcon had landed on her windowsill, beak clutching a letter written in Írissë's hand.</p><p>
  <em>If you feel as I do, then you long to be free from Tirion and its watchful host.  Meet me at the stables in a day's time.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Artanis had packed her bow as she was bid, and had worn her grey wool riding skirt as she was bid.  Írissë had stared approvingly at the antler-bone torc clasped around her wrist.</p><p> </p><p>"She's ready to ride." When Írissë withdrew her touch, it broke the other maiden from her reverie.  She led her mare into the yard, and by the time she had mounted, Írissë had brought her own stallion, a blue roan, out of the stable.  She swung herself easily into the saddle, white skirts rucking up above her boots to show the muscular expanse of her calf.</p><p> </p><p>"You are comfortable riding without a bridle, are you not?" She asked.  "I can fetch a headstall or neck rein if you prefer."</p><p> </p><p>"All the children of Arafinwë know how to ride bridle-less," said Artanis with a toss of her head, for she was proud to show a capable horsewoman such as Írissë her skill.</p><p> </p><p>"That is just as well, I like a partner who can match me.  Though," Írissë said easily, "If you were riding with Tyelkormo, he would expect you to ride without saddle or blanket as well."</p><p> </p><p>"There are many reasons," replied Artanis, wrinkling her nose, "why I find him to be a wild and quarrelsome individual, for this least of all."  She supposed she was as good a rider as the reckless nér with whom Írissë spent so much free time.</p><p> </p><p>"Ah, peace, Nerwen," laughed Írissë. "There is little more satisfying than feeling uninterrupted the roll of flesh beneath your legs while riding," she continued with a wink, spurring her roan toward the gate, "so you can perhaps excuse him his wildness."</p><p> </p><p>Though still miffed, Artanis laughed.  "I can show you wildness," she replied, and spurred her palomino past Írissë, who had stopped to latch the gate.  She blew past the few travelers on the cobble road leading out of the compound, using her movement in the seat to urge her mount faster, fingers threaded in her mane.  Behind her, she could hear laughter as Írissë gained on her.  Artanis knew there could be no beating her, not a maiden of superior skill riding a fresh stallion.  But for a few moments, as cobble faded to dirt track and fields stretched endlessly in front of them, she thought she knew what Írissë meant about wildness.</p><p> </p><p>The other nissë drew abreast of her, laughing.  "A dirty trick, Artanis, though a head start will not be enough to best me."  Her hair was escaping from her braids as she spoke, and she was breathless from the wind.</p><p> </p><p>"We will see about that," countered Artanis.  "Though your mount is superior in speed and stamina, mine is more agile for her smaller size," and so saying, she veered her mount right with her knee, and in one clean movement jumped her over the ditch and hedgerow and into the fields of wildflowers and sweetgrass that bordered the old forest.  The blue roan was not far behind her, and she could feel his spittle as it flew through the air.</p><p> </p><p>Here the trees began to grow sparsely, and the forest floor was level.  "To where am I racing you?" Artanis shouted over the sound of hoof falls and overturned soil.</p><p> </p><p>"The old north road," cried Írissë, "and the last to make it there must set up the bedding."</p><p> </p><p>Artanis deftly wove her mare between the trunks, and she was proud to show her horsemanship, for her mare had the advantage of smaller size and biddable temper.  As they dipped into the valley and the old north road rose to greet them, Írissë once more drew even with her, and Artanis could see the joy of the chase on her face as she flashed between trees and over brambles. </p><p> </p><p>In the end, they entirely lost track of who was in front or behind.  When they emerged onto the road together, exhilarated and horses sweating, Írissë dismounted.  "Come," she laughed, "let us break our fast."</p><p> </p><p>They turned the horses loose to forage for sweet shoots, and Írissë produced some peaches from her saddlebag, only slightly bruised for the journey but still very sweet, a loaf of crusty bread, and some hard goats cheese. </p><p> </p><p>The two of them sat beneath the spreading branches of a cedar tree.  Artanis marveled at the flavor of the peaches, their sweetness that tasted of sunshine and summer earth.  When Írissë bit into hers, the juices ran down her chin, and Artanis put her hand out unthinkingly to stop the drops in their track to the hollow of her throat. </p><p> </p><p>Realizing what she had done, having made the first move - after almost a season of barely a hint of romantic intention from the elder nissë save that first, dreamlike night - Artanis froze. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë looked at her inquisitively.  Curiosity turned to understanding, and ever the catalyst she said "Though fabled for her strong will, now Nerwen freezes like the hare with its neck in the fox's mouth."</p><p> </p><p>Not to be outdone by her headstrong companion, Artanis pressed her against the cedar trunk with her right hand and cupped her cheek with her left.  "Ar-Feiniel," she said lowly, and dipped her mouth to the junction of Írissë's throat and her jaw, alternating between mouthing at the soft flesh there and biting gently.  Írissë groaned, only too happy to surrender her control and to tilt her head back further.  Her hands came up to rest in Artanis' hair, crackling around them like a corona, a halo of summer.  She tugged her companion up to meet her lips, swallowing the soft and wounded noise that slipped from Artanis as her eyes slid closed.</p><p> </p><p>"Two months," murmured Artanis in the breath between kisses, "and I never thought -"</p><p> </p><p>She was interrupted by Írissë's demanding lips, which commanded her attention for some time.  When Írissë tore herself away, she spoke, and her voice was husky with want.  "How was I to come to you? It is not my way to slip through foreign halls, to use the servants' entrance when the servants are abed - though the idea of scaling your balcony to ravish you did cross my mind more than once.  Everywhere in Tirion there are eyes and ears, and I wish to have you in your entirety, on my terms, free from all other cares.  If you knew how I longed to see you, how I sought every opportunity to see you, what I wished to do to you - " here her voice broke as Artanis swung her leg over her to straddle her properly.</p><p> </p><p>"It must equal that which I wish to do to you," murmured Artanis, and captured her mouth once more.  Her hands roved over the expanse of Írissë's stomach, finding the swell of her breasts beneath her tunic.  Much time was spent goading each other, finding and memorizing the soft and sensitive places as new lovers do, chasing each other toward an eventuality that they were happy to delay for the thrill of the chase and the conquest.  Further off, they could hear the sound of buckles as the horses fed, unaware.</p><p> </p><p>By this time, Laurelin was bidding its farewell, and the shadows in the old forest lengthened and deepened.  Though they were reluctant to separate, the two maidens broke apart to rub down the horses and hobble them for the night, and to hurriedly pitch the tent. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë had just thrown down the bedding - with little care, her mind was elsewhere - when Artanis dragged her down into the furs.  She strove for the upper hand, and for one heated moment it seemed like Írissë would settle into the furs and accept her offer of pleasure given freely, but Írissë laughed and rolled the two of them so that now Artanis lay on her back in the girdle of her lover’s arms.</p><p> </p><p>"I had not intended - " began Írissë, propping herself onto her elbows and hair from her eyes, "I had intended to wait; I had a plan to woo you.  I would have - " one long finger on her lips stilled her.</p><p> </p><p>"Love, if you wait a second longer, then I will expire," Artanis contested, "for though this is our first, it will not be our last, nor even our best, as it is in our nature to seek perfection in all pursuits."  At this, her fingers found that that place on Írissë's inner thigh that she had discovered earlier that afternoon, the one that made her shiver in anticipation when stroked lighter than a summer breeze.  She nodded serenely with the satisfaction that comes with learning the things unique to one's lover.  “We have all the time in the world to repeat this.”</p><p> </p><p>"It is just as well then, Nerwen, that you exercise your own desire, as you have such an effect on me that I lose all composure.” She spoke this against Artanis' neck, for once subdued, nervousness written into the line of her spine where she leaned over her.</p><p> </p><p>"Ar-Feiniel," whispered Artanis, drawing her lover's face from her neck to meet her gaze.  "May I undress you?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, love, yes."</p><p> </p><p>Then it was Artanis' turn to fumble, for the lacings on a woman's tunic are complicated when one has only undone them in reverse when undressing oneself. It did not help matters that Írissë's lips on hers were like the most intoxicating liquor as they roved across the plane of her cheek to meet her ear, and her fingers were undoing the clasps of her bodice.  Then they were both in their small-clothes, and a moment of stillness passed between the two. </p><p> </p><p>They traded a few shy kisses, knowing that soon there would be nothing between them.  Artanis was content to let Írissë lay her down again on the furs, to rest inside the dark curtain of her hair, to let her explore as she would. </p><p> </p><p>When Írissë's fingers finally slipped inside of her, Artanis gasped.  Her back arched in pleasure as Írissë parted her legs further, seeking better purchase against her smooth flesh and pressing open-mouthed, searching kisses to the pillow of her breasts.</p><p> </p><p>Her lover bent her fingers, searching for the place that made Artanis cry out, eyes flying open briefly before her lips were captured again.  She rolled her hips experimentally, seeking the pleasure of Írissë's fingers and also to rub herself against her lover's forearm.</p><p> </p><p>Írissë matched her pace to the need evident in Artanis' eyes, and soon she felt that need for release rising in her blood.  When she came undone, her cry was swallowed by her lover's seeking lips.</p><p> </p><p>As Artanis returned to her senses, she became aware of írissë's need, slick and hot, rutting against the back of her thigh.  "Come here, love," she sighed in contentment.</p><p> </p><p>Írissë nodded and shifted to straddle one of Artanis' legs.  She leaned forward to kiss Artanis and in this manner, grinding against her leg, slick with pleasure, she found her own release.</p><p> </p><p>After, they knew nothing but the dark curtain of sleep.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When they woke in the morning, tangled together, the light of Laurelin was bleeding into their tent.  Írissë propped herself up on one arm and said sleepily "Good morning, dearest."</p><p> </p><p>Artanis reached upward and brushed from hair behind her lover's ear.  "Good morning, love."</p><p> </p><p>"Feeling hungry?"</p><p> </p><p>"Mm," Artanis groaned, tugging suggestively at Írissë's thigh. From her place among the furs, she placed soft kisses along the rise of Írissë’s hip and thigh.  She wanted nothing more than to acquiesce, to open her legs and lose herself.  Here, in the soft morning light, her lover was more irresistible than any food.</p><p> </p><p>Artanis’ lips slowly travelled across her stomach,  stopping to run her tongue along her navel and to appreciate the shudder that elicited.  Patient as she was, even she had a limit, and when she had her fill of sensually teasing her lover with the barest suggestion of her intentions, she laid Írissë fully on her back.  She paused, looking up to where Írissë had an arm flung over her face to cover her blush, and saying with impressive calm, “May I? I should like to taste you.”</p><p> </p><p>Írissë moaned and spread her legs wantonly.  “Please.”</p><p> </p><p>Artanis settled herself between her lover’s legs.  She pressed kisses to her inner thighs, hands coming up to grip the junctions of Írissë’s hips.</p><p> </p><p>When she ran her tongue along Írissë’s slit, she could taste her desire.  She was slick with it, just from her teasing.  Artanis took the time to savor her.  She toyed with Írissë’s clit, offering just enough stimulation to drive her mad without bringing her closer to release.  She alternated this with sucking her labia, swollen with blood from her growing desire.  Finally, Artanis dipped her tongue into her lover’s core.  She was slick with how badly she needed release, and she tasted better than anything in the world. </p><p> </p><p>She focused her attentions to her clit, enveloping it with her mouth, licking and sucking it with such a single-minded intensity that Írissë was caught off guard when the first finger entered her. </p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t enough; she needed more.  Her hips rolled against the furs, held in check only by the grip Artanis held on her hip.  Her fingers wove themselves into Artanis’ hair, urging her onward as she sought her pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>Artanis added a second finger, searching delicately for the same place inside her that Írissë had taken such liberties with the night before. When she found it, Írissë groaned, legs bracketing Artanis on both sides as she shuddered. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë knew she was reaching her limit.  The pleasure in her belly wound higher and higher, and her walls clung around her lover’s fingers in a desperate bid for more stimulation, anything to send her over the edge.  She cried out, reflexively pulling Artanis’ hair as she came, hips juddering before she finally lay still.</p><p> </p><p>When she was sensible, she drew Artanis up into her arms.  “Would you like me to return the favor?” she asked, as her lover had made no move to bring herself off.</p><p> </p><p>Artanis shook her head softly.  She was covered in a sheen of sweat and her hair was matted where Írissë had clung to her.  “I think I will collect what I am due at a later time,” she said loftily.  “And at present, I am satisfied simply having tasted you, for this was a dream that haunted my sleep in those months when I was without you.”</p><p> </p><p>“And how did you find me?” Inquired Írissë.  “Is this a good dream?”</p><p> </p><p>“If this were a dream, I would take to wandering during my waking hours, looking for something to slake my thirst.  So I am glad this is not a dream, and you are here, that I may drink from you.” She fell silent, and rested her head against Írissë’s collarbone. </p><p> </p><p>Eventually Artanis’ fingers took to wandering again, tracing aimless patterns on her lover’s thigh.  Before her wandering fingers climbed any higher to rekindle her interest, Írissë untangled herself and reached for her small-clothes. </p><p> </p><p>"As much I would like to indulge myself further," she said, "I think you will soon lament not breaking your fast."  At a shrewd look from Artanis she amended, “<em>properly</em> breaking your fast.”</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I suppose you speak wisely," Artanis acknowledged.  "What is for breakfast?"</p><p> </p><p>"I brought oat cakes," mused Írissë, "And I saw fresh berries near the creek when we stabled the horses."</p><p> </p><p>The two rose to greet the morning.  Írissë procured two bowls from her saddlebags and led Artanis deeper into the woods.  As they moved through the brush, the sound of rushing water grew stronger until they emerged onto the rocky bank of a stream.  All along the stream were bushes with serrated leaves of a deep green, bearing golden fruits.</p><p> </p><p>"Look." Írissë pointed to the cane berries.  "The salmon berries are fruiting.  Look for the ones deepest in color."  She wandered over to a bush and came back with a berry in her fingers.  Gently, she brought it to Artanis' mouth, wiping her lip clean with a thumb.  The burst of flavor puckered her tongue, and Artanis smiled.</p><p> </p><p>They passed an hour gathering the berries in amiable silence, save for the burbling of the stream.</p><p> </p><p>As they wandered, Artanis chanced to find a bush heavy with swollen red buds.  "I think I found rosehips, love," she called, head barely visible to her lover from over the top of the bushes.</p><p> </p><p>"If you pick some, I will make you tea," responded Írissë.</p><p> </p><p>Artanis undid the scarf with which she had hastily tied her hair that morning, and used it to collect a bundle of the red fruits.  At that moment, Írissë emerged from the brush to see her lover, hair undone and knotted, reflecting the treelight, unaware of her lover's presence.  Írissë watched for a moment, then wrapped her arms around her lover, who giggled and leaned backward. </p><p> </p><p>"Are you ready to head back, love?" She inquired.  "I am eager to reach our destination."</p><p> </p><p>Breakfast was simple yet delicious, and the tartness of the rosehip tea complemented the sweetness of the honeyed oatcake.  When they were done, they gathered their belongings, ground out the small fire they had lit, and mounted their horses. </p><p> </p><p>"Where are we going, exactly?" Asked Artanis after they had been on the road for a few hours.  The forest was heating up in the midday light, and the air was lush, humid, and full of the living and decaying.</p><p> </p><p>"There is a place I know," says Írissë, "where few have been.  In fact, Tyelkormo may be the only other who knows, though I am not his keeper and mark not his coming and goings, nor his guests."</p><p> </p><p>The spark of not-quite-jealously returned.  "You and Tyelkormo are…" Artanis thought for a moment. "Close?"</p><p> </p><p>"In the way that nér are close after years of hellraising.  And drinking.  And what less-lenient grandparents might consider petty crime." Írissë laughed.  "And in any case, he is off plowing a field of a sort much different to mine."</p><p> </p><p>If Artanis had been drinking from her waterskin at that moment, she would have experienced a mild emergency.  As it was, she released a decidedly unladylike snort.  "Fair point."  And that point was settled.  "So does anyone know we are here?"</p><p> </p><p>"Well, I told Tyelkormo, out of a certain necessity."  Írissë laughed in mild embarrassment.</p><p> </p><p>"So there will be no one to surprise us?" surmised Artanis. "For I assume that is why you even told Tyelkormo at all, to warn him and his latest conquest away."</p><p> </p><p> "Something like that." she flushed to the roots of her hair.  "At any rate, you would do better to worry about the Ambarussa, for they know a great deal more than they let on, and they are as silent together on four feet as one nér is on two.  But I think their fear of me is greater than their love for constructing troubles and japes.</p><p> </p><p>"I told Findekáno as well, as a matter of general safety," she continued.  "Though I do not expect we will see him here.  It suits him better to sneak up stairwells and climb balconies."</p><p> </p><p>"Or slip about in gardens," adds Artanis.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When the light of Laurelin had reached its zenith, Írissë instructed Artanis to dismount.  There they led their horses on foot up a steep talus slope.  The sun beat hot on their shoulders, and Artanis relieved herself of the traveling cloak she wore.  Thankfully, a breeze blew across the face of the ridge, bringing with it the smell of sweet grasses and the little white phlox that bloomed in squat eruptions from between the stones. </p><p> </p><p>As they neared the top, Írissë let out an appreciative cry.  Pointing at a crop of yellow flowers supported by bladelike leaves, she said "The arrow-leafed balsamroot is blooming.  It makes for good dinner. Help me gather a little, and we can leave it to cook while we hunt."</p><p> </p><p>Írissë pulled out some sort of short, dull blade that she used to uncover the roots of one plant. The two of them took a seat on a flat rock while the horses wandered as grazed.  Írissë deftly cleaned the roots, saying, between passes of the blade, "When peeled and roasted, the roots will lose their bitterness; they are a good source of protein should we fail to find any game this evening."  Artanis set to stripping the leaves, for they were also edible, and bundled them into a basket on her saddlebags.  Here, on the sunny slope, fireweed was also blooming, and Írissë instructed her that these leaves also were good for eating.  By the time she had gathered enough to fill her basket, Írissë was done with the roots, and they were ready to continue. </p><p> </p><p>As they continued up the slope, their horses following obediently behind, Artanis could tell her lover was fiddling with something obscured by her hunched shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>Before Artanis could ask about her efforts, they crested the ridge.  Down in the basin, Artanis could see the bluest lake she had ever encountered, ringed by conifers and dense, verdant bushes.  A rocky promontory extended partway into the lake, the perfect place to swim.</p><p> </p><p>Artanis was busy admiring the view when she felt something settle on her head.  When they were walking, Írissë had been busy making a coronet of the leftover balsamroot and fireweed flowers.  She wrapped her arms around Artanis' waist and laid her chin on her shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>"So, do you think the view is worth the undertaking?" She enquired. </p><p> </p><p>"I think it's the most beautiful place I've ever been," Artanis answered honestly, "And it is my greatest privilege to be here with the most beautiful nissë I have ever seen."</p><p> </p><p>"I think," said Írissë, "that surely that title belongs to you."</p><p> </p><p>"You are sweet to say so, my love, but in my eyes, you are beyond compare."  Artanis pressed a kiss to her lover's forehead.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When they descended down into the lake basin, they were greeted with fields of huckleberry bushes, their fruit a purple so deep it was almost black, glistening in the sun.  As they led their horses around the lake, they idly picked handfuls of the sweet, juicy berries - neither had wanted to stop for lunch during the long hike up the ridge, but now their stomach growled in protest at the sight of fresh fruit. </p><p> </p><p>Presently they emerged into a sort of clearing within view of the lake.  Írissë set to unbuckling the saddle bags, saying "We will camp here for the night.  The horses need to be watered, but they must be hobbled beyond that rise; there is plenty of sweet grass, and from there they will not sully the water."</p><p> </p><p>Írissë had graciously offered to set up the bedding, so Artanis set about rubbing down the horses and giving them a handful of grain and half an apple each from the pocket of her riding skirt, one of the ones remaining from the harvest late last fall.  She led them over the rise as Írissë had indicated, and found herself on the edge of the forest.  Here, wild grasses stretched to form an open expanse interrupted only by fruiting bushes and the occasional wizened and twisted trunk of a conifer, hardened against the chill winds and snows. </p><p> </p><p>She looked about, determining that this was the sort of place frequented by all manner of creatures.  Mice and hares eating the grains would attract foxes and raptors.  Deer and elk that grazed the sweet grass would be followed by the wolves and bears, perhaps even a solitary mountain lion.  As far as the eye could see, there were wildflowers, fire weed, paintbrush, prairie stars. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë appeared from behind the rise, carrying their bows and quivers, having unpacked quickly.  It was not early enough in the day to hunt deer, and as they numbered only two, there was no need for that amount of meat.  Given that she had not been instructed to bring a bow with a heavier draw weight than her usual piece, carved from white ash, Artanis could surmise they were hunting for fowl. </p><p> </p><p>As they picked their way over the grassland, Írissë explained "The grouse and pheasant here are plentiful, and they make for good sport.  It should be no trouble to find one or two for our pot." </p><p> </p><p>"Everything here is strangely bountiful," Artanis remarked.  "Wherever I look, there is something to eat, though it looks nothing like the fields to which I am accustomed."</p><p> </p><p>"I suppose you could call this a farm," Írissë said, "for Yavanna blesses all growing things, even if they do not grow in the regimented manner our people have developed.  Tyelkormo and I have been  experimenting for some time with this spot of land, and we know where all the best things grow, and how to nurture them so they continue to do so."</p><p> </p><p>"So the bounty of fruit here are near the lake…"</p><p> </p><p>"The huckleberry needs fire to clear a place in the forest.  It is not a perverse thing, or something contrary to the rules of nature.  It is as natural as it is for the fox to hunt the hare.  And when the fruit is plentiful, the animals are too.  It makes for all manner of sport; if you wish it, then we may return here some time to hunt a bear.  You can bring those brothers of yours, the middle two, Arakáno and Aikanáro; they would enjoy the sport."</p><p> </p><p>Írissë paused, listening to something, though Artanis only perceived the rustle of the grass in the light breeze.  Conversationally, she said, "Nerwen, be there stones by your feet?"</p><p> </p><p>Artanis bent to collect two or three, sensing that because they had brought no dogs, one of them would need to flush the fowl from where they hid. </p><p> </p><p>"Good, do you see that shrub over there?" her lover said, stringing her bow with quiet precision.  Artanis nodded, admiring the richly carved black locust, the way Írissë's arm rippled as she bent the wood.  "Can you hit it with a stone?"</p><p> </p><p>Artanis let a stone fly as a response, straight and true as an arrow.  Írissë had been right, for as soon as the stone hit, the huckleberry bush exploded in a frenzy.  A ring-neck pheasant shot out from its cover and lit out over the field.  Artanis did not nock and arrow, content to watch Írissë in her element as she drew her hand back to her cheek.  Pheasants, not given to flying, preferred to bolt when startled, and though this one moved almost too fast for Artanis to track, Írissë's arrow flew true to its mark.</p><p> </p><p>Írissë shouted in delight, and jogged off to retrieve her prize.  She returned, glowing, to show off her marksmanship, as her arrow had taken a merciful path through the pheasant's eye.  "She is very beautiful, is she not?" remarked Írissë, for the sunlight off the feather made it seem like the essence of the bird was bleeding gold into the air. </p><p> </p><p>"Indeed," Artanis agreed, though her eyes lingered instead on her lover's face.</p><p> </p><p>"Be that as it may, she is rather small.  Enough for a meal, perhaps, but I will not be satisfied until you catch a bird of your own, for I sense you have your own tricks up your sleeve."</p><p> </p><p>They continued, bows in hand, along the border of the field, eyes on the rippling grass for any movement contrary to the breeze, a traitorous tip that a bird was foraging there.  It came as a surprise, then, when the air erupted into sound and motion, raucous calling and loose down floating too serenely for the frenetic tableau in front of them.  A handful of quail streamed out in front of them, rushing for the safety of the tree line. </p><p> </p><p>"After them!" cried Írissë, breaking into a run after the fowl.  There were enough that it was almost assured that they would bag at least one, provided they did not lose them in the underbrush. </p><p> </p><p>Artanis followed after her, eager to prove her skill.  The low growth was sparse here at the edge of the forest, and they worked as a team to flush the quail into the open areas under the trees.  The denser foliage closed on them quickly, and soon they would lose the quail; already the smaller ones had scattered and they were left pursuing two fat males.  Artanis pushed herself into a last burst of speed, nocking an arrow in anticipation.  Ahead she perceived the abandoned warren into which the quail would vanish.  Recklessly, she drew her bow and leapt cleanly over the fallen tree in her way.  From the air, she let an arrow loose.  It  flew true, taking both quail through the neck at once. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë retrieved the birds and returned to Artanis her arrow.  “An impressive display of skill,” she remarked, her eyes hot with the thrill of the hunt.  Artanis flushed, because coming from her lover, this was no small bit of praise. </p><p> </p><p>As they took their bearings, they realized they were in the small valley of a stream that was likely the outlet of the lake.  The smell of moist, dark earth rose to meet them, along with something pungent and sulfurous.  Írissë pointed to the damp hollow brook, where green vegetation sprouted with vast, leathery leaves, the source of the smell.  "Meadow cabbage," she said by way of explanation, "though it can also be named for that animal is so resembles in smell, the skunk.  These too are good boiled."</p><p> </p><p>Írissë cleanly snapped six leaves free from their roots, each broad enough to hide her face.  "These are wider than those fans the Vanyar carry," Artanis commented.  "Though perhaps I prefer the fans in this instance.  Darling, you know I trust your judgement in all things, but this is perhaps excessive."</p><p> </p><p>Írissë simply rolled the leaves into neat scrolls and tucked them into her knapsack with a wink.  "There is wild onion here," she said, "Which I think will be good with our birds."  She set about loosening some from the moist, crumbly earth they were rooted in, and Artanis did the same, though she did not have her hunting knife as Írissë did and therefore worked a great deal harder with the sharp end of a stick for poorer results. </p><p> </p><p>She turned to Írissë, ready to show off her handiwork, and was surprised to hear her lover cry, "Ai, leave them be at once!"  Artanis flushed in embarrassment and tucked her chin into her collar, for she hated to be proven wrong, and even more so by one whose respect she desired.  She knew not what she had done, but she knew it wasn't right. </p><p> </p><p>Mastering herself, Írissë continued, "I find no fault in you, for this is your first time harvesting here, but amongst your onions you have also got some stalks of death camas.  You mustn't gather onion," she continued, "unless you can see the onion's flower, which looks like a little round cloud, or the bud has formed on top," indicating the round little nob at the top of each of the stalks she carried. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë pressed a kiss to her forehead, resting there for a moment.  "I cannot think what I would do if you were hurt.  And in any case, your brothers would surely kill me."</p><p> </p><p>She helped Artanis sort out her gathering, retaining only those that they could prove to be onion.  Then they headed back to their camp.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Artanis noted that though at first blush there was no sign of habitation in the lake basin, there was a fire ring built of smooth rocks from the lake, with a flat one to one side obviously intended for the heating and cooking of meats.  Similarly, a stash of split logs lay beneath an outcropping of rock along the rise.  Artanis was almost vexed by this, for she could see visions of Írissë with a hatchet, arms bare in just her small-shirt and leggings, splitting wood in the dappled sun.</p><p> </p><p>Írissë built a fire in the ring, and while it burned the two nissë plucked the birds they had caught.  "When we are done here, let us go swimming," Írissë said, "For I am hot and tired, and there is no one here to see us if we wish to swim without even our underthings."  In response, Artanis blew a handful of the quail-down at her lover. </p><p> </p><p>They saved the feathers in a knapsack, and Írissë took the three birds for butchering.  "I will save from you this task," Írissë said, "If you will tend to some of the vegetables." </p><p> </p><p>This was agreeable to Artanis, who set about knocking the fire down and rolling the balsamroot into the coals to cook.  After some searching, Artanis located a tripod of cast iron that she folded open and set over the fire.  She filled the small cooking pot she found with clear water from the lake, hung it on the tripod to boil, and threw in the leaves of the balsamroot and fireweed, and  a handful of sage that she had picked and secreted in her pocket.  After deliberating what to do with the skunk cabbage, she decided to tear it into shreds, and this too she added to the pot.</p><p> </p><p>By this time, Írissë had returned, having gutted and rinsed the birds with her waterskin.  Wrapped in a flat leaf, she carried the offal, which she instructed Írissë to season with salt from her saddlebag and then placed on that hot flat stone in the fire ring.  The pheasant she hung from a tree to season and to protect it from animals, saying, "The two quail you caught are handsome enough for our dinner that I will take the pheasant home with me."  She and Artanis stuff the quail with huckleberries they had picked earlier and tied their breast shut with twine, skewering the two on a green wood spit that they suspended on the tripod. </p><p> </p><p>"Now, my love," she said, brushing her hands clean, "I believe it is time for that swim.  The fire will be alright for now; it burns lowly and there is no wind at present."</p><p> </p><p>They gathered blankets from their packs, woven from a durable linen and patterned with a blazing sun motif.  They scrambled toward that rocky promontory they had seen earlier, which was still in full view of the sun and the perfect place for drying themselves afterward.  The blue glitter of the water, gently lapping at the rocks, was astonishing.  They could see many feet into the water, even in the deepest portions where the mountain fish hid from the late afternoon heat. </p><p> </p><p>As carefree as always, Írissë threw down her things and began to undress.  Artanis was speechless for a moment, with the longing of one who has seen infrequently the body of her lover and knows not when she will again.  Írissë, already down to her small-clothes, turned and saw Artanis with only her boots gone and laughed.  "Lover, do you intend to swim in your breeches? No one has followed us here, and there is no one to see you except me, and one osprey above in the clouds.  See?" She stepped down onto the natural rock shelf made from years of freezing and thawing, and into the shallows. "It is like when we would bathe with our brothers after we had all got hideously dirty in the hedgerow."</p><p> </p><p>"It is <em>not</em> like bathing with your brothers," Artanis said with mock-crossness, struggling with her tunic up above her head, "Because for one thing we were all younglings and for another I have not had my head between their - "  She shrieked as something wet slapped into her bare stomach, and freeing her head from her tunic, saw that they were Írissë's small clothes.  Írissë herself was nowhere to be seen, and Artanis had a vision of her lovers whole body, long and lean, scissoring through the water, the light from above dappling her skin like the trout.  She wiggled out of the rest of her clothes and shuffled into the water.  She cast her eyes about the shore once more out of habit, and thus was caught wholly unaware when something seized her by the calf and dragged her into deeper water. </p><p> </p><p>Artanis had a moment of panic, but forced her mind clear.  She opened her eyes and through the veil of her hair, could see Írissë, smiling like an imp and blowing bubbles.  She made a mock-rude gesture and Írissë's laugh bubbled up through the water. </p><p> </p><p>Artanis kicked up to the surface, flipping her wet hair out of her eyes.  She was aware that her lover had swum around behind her when she felt a soft hand on the small of her back and heard her voice in her ear.  "I will challenge you to a race if you are willing to lose." </p><p> </p><p>Artanis laughed.  "I do not think you can best me, the daughter of Ëarwen."  In response, Írissë dunked her head under the water.  She immediately set off for the other shore, taking advantage of the extra seconds it took for Artanis to surface, curse good-naturedly, and swim after her. Írissë was a strong swimmer, but Artanis was better, and even with her face out of the water, it only took a few strokes to catch her lover by the ankle.  Írissë floundered, laughing, and kissed her with cold lips. </p><p> </p><p>They spent as long as they dared chasing each other about in the water before Artanis declared she was too cold to continue.  She hauled herself back onto the shelf of promontory to dry in the sun, wringing out her hair and dangling her calves in the water as Írissë took one last turn through the water and chase the fish. </p><p> </p><p>Artanis was braiding her hair when she resurfaced in front of her, cool fingers wet on her warm thighs.  Írissë raised herself up by her arms just enough to plant kisses trailing up Artanis' thighs, pulling her towards the edge of the shelf with obvious intent.  Still, Artanis groaned at the first pass of her lover's tongue over her lips.  "Ever you are hungry," she cried, "Will you never have your fill?"</p><p> </p><p>Írissë laughed, dark hair floating around her in the water.  "There must be something in the water," she asserted with a wink, "Though you did not protest so much yesterday.  I thought you might wish to redeem that voucher you purchased with your performance this morning."</p><p> </p><p>She turned herself back to her work, lapping eagerly at Artanis’ clit.  She spent some minutes in this manner, teasing her lover and tasting her desire; though the angle was poor and would not bring her to climax, they had no need to rush.  However, Artanis had begun to suspect that the water here was deep enough that Írissë was treading water to keep her head at the level of the promontory, for her breathing grew labored.  She dragged Írissë up so she could climb out onto the rock along side of her, and as soon as Írissë had her legs under her, she gathered the other nissë into her arms and transported her to the pile of blankets they had made earlier. </p><p> </p><p>The blankets were warm from Laurelin's light, and Artanis blinked against the golden heat of the sky.  Írissë once more insinuated herself between her thighs, this time making use of her fingers.  Artanis pushed her hips down onto them, seeking that pleasure of the night before, and her lover was only too happy to oblige her. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë's clever fingers were going to drive her to the breaking point if her mouth did not push her there first.  Artanis dug her fingers into her hair so fiercely that hazily, she thought she should apologize later, but Írissë only moaned in response and doubled down with her tongue.  Artanis was aware that she had shifted position, and a glance downward determined that Írissë was now supporting herself from her right forearm as the left was between her own legs.  The angle was not as convenient, but Artanis could not bring herself to care when she heard the desperate noises Írissë was making against her mound, nor when her fingers probed without ceasing what seemed to be the core of her being.</p><p> </p><p>Írissë cried out then, ceasing for a moment her ministrations as found her release, but even without her tongue, her cry had been enough for Artanis, who was so close that all she could do was wrap her legs around her lover and shudder her way through her own ecstasy.</p><p> </p><p>They lay wrapped in each other's arms for a while, drying in the light and waiting for their heartrates to slow.  Though they wished to stay there longer, drowsing, they could smell their dinner cooking from across the lake.  They summarily wrapped themselves in their towels and dashed back to their camp to dress in warmer clothes, for the evening wind was beginning to gust across the lake. </p><p> </p><p>When they emerged from their tent - the consideration of having another go dashed only by how good dinner smelled - The light of Telperion had begun to creep over the ridge.  They ate the offal with their fingers while waiting for the quail to cool, then dusted off the balsamroot and sliced it into the stew pot.  Artanis ladled the stew into two shallow metal cups, which they drank from while intermittently pinching off pieces of the roasted quail.  The stew was earthy and dark, the green tender and flavorsome, and the roots sweet from roasting.  The flavor of the quail hit their tongues between sips, smoky from the fire and gamey in the way that animals are when they have scrabbled and fought for their meals, sweetened by the berry stuffing. </p><p> </p><p>By now, the temperature had cooled considerably, and they were grateful for their fur-lined traveling gear at this high altitude.  They sat peaceably, saying little and enjoying the first stars that could be seen over the lake and eating their fill.</p><p> </p><p>It was almost too much food to finish, but they found themselves to be quite hungry after the exertions of the day and soon all that was left were bones, which were heaped into the fire to burn off.  Írissë gave the dishes a quick rinse into the edge of the fire pit and then produced a flask from inside her cloak. </p><p> </p><p>Wrapping the two of them in a handsome fur brought from the tent, she said, "I may have taken some liberties with my father's best mead… Though I do not think he will miss it."</p><p> </p><p>The mead was, in fact, quite strong, but Írissë had only brought a small flask, so between the two of them, there was only enough to warm them pleasantly and dispose them to indecorous giggling beneath their fur blanket.  The two nissë fell to kissing, and it was not a surprise to Artanis when Írissë's hand found its way through her many layers to caress her nipple.  The throw was warm enough that Artanis deemed it comfortable to unbutton her tunic and shift.  Írissë slipped them from her shoulders and took a breast in hand, running her finger along its soft underside and then rising to give the nipple a deft twist that bordered such between pleasure and pain that Artanis gave a broken cry.  Already she could feel her desire, how her lips swelled with blood, and she rubbed her legs together though in it she found little relief. </p><p> </p><p>She cupped Írissë through the material of her trousers and found her to be in similar condition.  She undid the lacings as best she could with one hand and her mind occupied by the feeling of Írissë's tongue worrying at her nipples.  Artanis found her lover already wet and wanting, and pushed two fingers inside her without preamble.  Írissë let out a noise that was more animal than elf and bit down on the meat of her shoulder.  Though there was little room to move her hand in her leggings, Írissë made up the difference through how she rutted down upon her.</p><p> </p><p>In all this, the blanket had slipped down to their hips, and even with the remains of the fire they were still cold.  Artanis was not sure by what means Írissë leveraged her into the tent while still making a ruin of her neck, but then she was laying on soft furs, looking up at her partially dressed lover. </p><p> </p><p>Írissë must have magically vanished her trousers because the next thing Artanis knew, she straddled her and dragged her hand back to her weeping slit.  Artanis was only too happy to oblige, sliding into her with ease.  She cupped her palm for Írissë so that she could rub her clit against her at the same time.  Írissë leaned down to claim her mouth, her hair falling in a satin curtain around her lover. </p><p> </p><p>Artanis could bear no longer to go untouched.  She snuck her unoccupied hand down to touch herself.  In this state, with Írissë above her, her desire plain on her face, she knew she would not last long.  When Írissë moaned and locked her knees in a vice against Artanis’ flanks, Artanis could not wait any longer.  They tipped over the edge together.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Sated, they drifted off as they lay, wrapped together, seeing the stars from between the flaps of their tent and hearing the rushing of the wind and the laughing of coyotes in the far-off valley.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'd never written f/f fic before (or smut ever) and I was like, "why not go 0 to 100 real quick? You're queer, how hard can it be?"  </p><p>when I started this I was like "ok I have one sex scene planned" and then I got to drafting and I was like "hmm ok so I need to reevaluate" and now I feel like this fic is mostly porn lol</p><p>Tbh this fic prompt was a godsend because I got to write about pretty girls and how much I love the forest ecology so …<br/>While writing this fic I was like "I haven't seen my partner in six months because of quarantine *angry face* so this is my emotional outlet"</p><p>Ok this lake is basically like that old property on the edge of town where kids go to make out and cause mischief, except, prettier.  Lol forgive me.</p><p>it is apparently canon that elves ride without a bit, and sometimes wholly without gear</p><p>The ecology is based on the pacific northwest USA.  I'm most familiar with these plants.  The food they are eating is based in part on my personal knowledge and experience; the rest was sourced online.  I made sure to find corroborating reports of safety, but if you have alternate information, please let me know. In general, you should not eat anything that you find in the woods unless you are able to identify all of its key features.</p><p>Sidenote: Huckleberry is a traditional staple food for many indigenous Americans and remains an important source of income and cultural heritage.  They face a lot of harvesting competition from white leisure-harvesters and from the growing commercial sector.  Huckleberries depend on forest fires to open habitat for them; indigenous controlled burning both aided the ecosystem while maintaining a steady source of food.  With over 100 years of total fire suppression in the US (which is only now being regarded as bad practice), many of the original huckleberry fields are dwindling as they are overtaken in succession by taller trees, and indigenous peoples no longer have the freedom of land management they once did.  Thusly, if you want to pick huckleberry, you need to get a forest product permit and scrupulously check that the locations you frequent are not actually part of a reservation, restoration area, or through treaties open solely to indigenous harvesters.  Harvest responsibly and respect their wisdom!</p><p>It's true that livestock (and humans) need to camp 200 feet from water sources to prevent from contaminating the water with nitrogenous waste/fecal coliforms.  Don't wash with soaps or clean your kill in the water either, and bury guts/blood.  Please treat your water, even in the backcountry.  Boiling, UV light, and chlorine/iodine all work.  Don't be like my microbiology prof who, ironically, gave himself the howling shits with accidental giardia contamination.</p><p>Ahh don't leave fires unattended ever, I wrote this to further the Plot but it's really Not best practice.  There's a forest ranger waiting on the roof ready to no-scope me for even using it as a plot device.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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